


A Very Supernatural Valentine’s Day

by curlybean



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Family Drama, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Teenchesters, Weechesters, mentions of spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-14
Updated: 2021-02-14
Packaged: 2021-03-16 02:46:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,638
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29446518
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/curlybean/pseuds/curlybean
Summary: Valentine’s Day isn’t  always a good day for the Winchester’s.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 8





	1. Chapter 1

A Very Supernatural Valentine's

Disclaimer: Supernatural belongs to the amazing Eric Kripke and to the very fine people of Warner Brothers/The CW. I claim no right to it and am merely playing in their beautiful sandbox. No copyright infringement intended.

If there was any day of the year that John hated more than November 2nd, it was February 14th. A day that should be filled with good feelings and love, was filled with anguish and despair for him. In the weeks leading up to the cursed day, he stayed away from grocery stores, hoping to not be inundated with the sight of chocolate hearts and diapered cherubs with bows and arrows. He steered clear of watching television, knowing that every movie and commercial would be romantic and heartwarming tales of love and lust.

And he just couldn't take it.

He'd always had good memories of Valentine's Day, until Mary died, at least. When he was little, his mother would bake his favorite cookies as a Valentine's treat for him. His dad would bring home the biggest bouquet of roses for his mom and he could remember being mesmerized by the smile on her face as she filled the vase with water and arranged the flowers perfectly.

He could remember making Valentine's cards for his classmates and for his parents and grandparents. He could remember the school parties they always had, with cupcakes and candy and heart-shaped decorations.

Those were all great memories and he could look back on those with happiness. It was the memories of celebrating the day with Mary that broke him. They had celebrated eleven Valentine's Days during their relationship and John could remember every single one.

The first one was a disaster. They had only been dating a few months and John had no idea what a nineteen-year-old girl expected from a guy like him. He would never consider himself a romantic, but he tried, at least. The problem was that he didn't really have the means to do the things he wanted. He was saving up his money to buy a VW van, so he didn't have a lot to spend on her. He did try, though.

The first thing he bought her was a silver necklace with a small angel pendant. He knew that she had a thing for angels and, while he really didn't understand the appeal, he figured she would love the necklace. Unfortunately, the necklace was so cheaply made that by the end of the night, the angel pendant had fallen off and the necklace had turned Mary's neck a weird shade of green.

The second thing he bought her that night was a bouquet of Daisies. While he really wanted to buy her roses, he only had enough money for the daisies. Unfortunately, Mary was allergic to most flowers, so she spent the rest of the evening sneezing and sniffling.

The third, and probably most disastrous, gift he gave her was food poisoning. After buying the necklace and the flowers, John didn't have much money left, so he decided to cook their dinner instead of going out. Unfortunately, John wasn't much of a cook and the Chicken Marsala he made was undercooked. Almost two hours after eating dinner, both Mary and John started to feel sick. An hour later, they were both throwing up and feeling like death was coming for them.

All in all, it was an awful day, but Mary and John cherished the memory of it in the following years.

The next few Valentine's Days were much better. John finally realized that Mary really wasn't the jewelry and flowers type of girl, so he didn't waste his time or money in buying those. Instead, he took her to quaint little cafés and they had picnics in the park. They went for long rides in the sleek Chevy Impala he bought, laughing at the idea that he had almost bought a VW van, and expressing thanks to the young man who talked him out of that.

John's favorite part of those memories were of the times they spent cuddled up on the hood of the Impala, staring at the stars in the sky and talking about their future. He proposed to Mary on one of those nights and he was the happiest man on Earth when she said yes.

Valentine's Day of 1979 was the best by far, though. He and Mary had been married for three and a half years and had just brought home their firstborn son three weeks before. Dean was a beautiful baby and both John and Mary were so excited to be parents. In the exhaustion of learning to live with a newborn, they both had completely missed the fact that it was February 14th. It was almost midnight when John finally realized what day it was.

They had both been sound asleep when Dean started crying. Mary quickly climbed out of bed and stepped over to the small bassinette next to the bed. John watched as she picked Dean up and started to sway and bounce a little. When Dean didn't stop crying, Mary moved over to the chair in the corner of the room and started to feed him.

It was at that time that John realized what day it was and Mary was surprised when he suddenly jumped out of bed. After throwing his robe on, he leaned over and kissed both Mary and the baby on their cheeks.

"Come downstairs when he's done, okay?" he said as he walked to the door. "And make sure you bring him with you."

"John, what are you doing?" Mary asked. "It's almost midnight."

"Just come downstairs, Mare," he said with a smile.

Fifteen minutes later, Mary came down the stairs to find John waiting by the door. He was holding several blankets and a few pillows in his arms and was holding the door open.

"John Winchester, what are you doing? It's cold outside and it's late!"

"Do you know what day it is?" he asked her simply.

"It's Wednesday," she answered, completely confused by her husband's actions.

"It's Valentine's Day," John said as he led Mary out the door. "At least for the next fifteen minutes."

Mary's eyes widened at hearing that. "Really? I had no idea. I think this lack of sleep is starting to catch up with me," she laughed.

Seconds later, they were at the Impala and John took Dean from Mary so she could get settled on the hood. Once she was settled, she took the baby back and waited for John to settle in next to her. Although they were both cold, they cuddled up together, keeping Dean firmly in-between them. Mary made sure that Dean was completely covered except for his eyes, nose, and mouth.

As they sat on the hood of the car, they talked about their future. They talked about Dean and about what kind of man he would grow up to be. Mary thought that he would probably grow up to be a doctor or a lawyer, but John just laughed at that.

"No way," he said adamantly. "He's going to grow up to be a man of action, Mare. He's going to save the world one day."

Mary laughed at her husband's declaration. "Well, he can save the world as a doctor, John. Maybe he'll be the one to find the cure for cancer."

After they talked about Dean a bit longer, they started to talk about the possibility of having more kids. Neither Mary nor John had any siblings, so they both wanted to have more children. Mary thought it would be great to have a daughter, but John wanted another son."

"Dean's gonna need someone to play football with, Mary. He'll need someone he can wrestle with."

This only led to the two of them jovially arguing about how girls could wrestle and play football as easily as a boy could. Mary won that argument, of course.

Eventually, it was getting too cold to stay outside, so John slid off the hood and then helped Mary down. He gathered up the pillows and blankets and started toward the house. But before he made it to the door, Mary grabbed his arm and stopped him. Standing up on her tip-toes, she kissed him deeply. They pulled apart only when Dean started to wriggle in protest of being trapped between them. As John opened the door, Mary leaned into his side and John suddenly noticed that she had tears streaking her face.

"Mary? What's wrong?" he asked anxiously.

Mary wiped her face on Dean's blanket and pulled him closer to her. "Nothing's wrong, John. I'm just…. I'm just so happy. This has been the best Valentine's Day ever and I know we're going to have so many more."

John leaned down and kissed his wife again. Once they were settled back in bed, with Dean sleeping soundly in his bassinette next to them, John held on tightly to his wife as he prayed that she was right.

She wasn't right, though. In fact, they only had four more Valentine's Days before Mary was taken from them. John hated that Sam never got to experience one with Mary. Not that he would have remembered it anyway, but still…

And now, John just hated the day completely. He did everything he could to ignore it. He knew he wasn't being fair to his sons, but he couldn't help it. He didn't have the strength to face the day, so he usually dove into a hunt or hid away in some dive bar where the women were ugly and the beer was warm. He would usually drink himself into a stupor, completely ignoring (or sometimes forgetting) that he had two young boys waiting for him in some crappy motel room.

Yes, he hated Valentine's Day. And he hated himself.

________________________________________________________________________

If there was any day of the year that Dean Winchester hated more than November 2nd, it was February 14th. In his experience, nothing good ever came out of that day and he wished that he could just wipe it off the calendar.

Dean was fifteen-years-old and a freshman in high school. They were currently living in the small town of Belle Plaine, Minnesota, and had been there for almost three months. Sam, who was ten-years-old and in the fifth grade, loved his school and he loved the fact that they had been there long enough for him to make friends and even join a few clubs and after-school activities. He was well-liked by all of his teachers and most of the students, too.

Dean, on the other hand, hated it there, but to be fair, he didn't hate it completely. He, too, had made a few friends, but the only after-school activity he took part in on a regular basis was detention. And he definitely wasn't well-liked among the teaching staff of the high school. Or the other students, either, unless you just counted the girls.

Dean had learned early on that most girls usually liked him and most boys usually didn't. He knew that the two were related. It wasn't hard to figure out that the boys didn't like him because all the girls did.

Dean didn't really care if he was liked or not. They were never in one place long enough for it to really matter, so he didn't let it bother him. He was usually able to make one or two good friends, and that was enough to get him through. That and the attention of the girls, of course.

To Dean's chagrin, the girls of this particular school particularly liked him. He usually couldn't go two steps without one of them saying hi to him or grabbing his arm and giggling. He would stop long enough to turn on the charm for a few seconds, but then would be on his way, taking in the flirtatious smiles from the girls and the heated glares from the boys.

The worst part of it all was that it was almost Valentine's Day. While Dean had no intention of asking anyone to be his Valentine, he was prepared for whatever was going to happen. What he wasn't prepared for, though, was the avalanche of chocolate roses that kept finding their way onto his desk.

Belle Plaine High had a traditional fundraiser on Valentine's Day where you could buy a chocolate rose for your Valentine. It was a competition, of sorts, too, because at the end of the day, whoever had the most chocolate roses won a prize.

Dean, of course, easily won. By the end of the day, he had amassed fifty-three chocolate roses. He had so many that he couldn't even fit them all in his backpack. He was a little embarrassed by all the attention, but it didn't stop him from claiming his prize, which happened to be a giant chocolate heart. He couldn't help but smile when he pictured Sam's reaction to all the chocolate he would be bringing home.

Dean was relieved when the final bell rang and he realized he had made it through the day without getting a detention. He quickly made his way to his locker to grab the chocolate roses he had stuffed in there. He had to empty his books out of his backpack to make room for all the roses, thinking the whole time about the detention he would be getting for not taking his homework home and finishing it. Oh well, a guy has to have priorities, right?

Just as he finished stuffing the last rose in his bag, his locker door was suddenly slammed shut, nearly missing his hand. Turning around, Dean noticed three guys surrounding him and he couldn't keep from rolling his eyes. He knew exactly why they were there.

"Hey, guys…. If you're here to give me another rose, I'm going to have to refuse," Dean said with a smirk. "I don't think I can fit another single one in my bag."

The words had barely left his mouth when he suddenly found himself pushed up against his locker. The boy doing the pushing was two years older than him and at least fifty pounds heavier. The other two were two years older, too, but not nearly as big. Dean recognized them as all being on the hockey team.

"You think you're something special, don't you, Winchester?" one of the boys asked. Dean thought his name was Robby or something like that.

"Not really," Dean answered. His chest was beginning to hurt where the guy's arm was pushing him into the locker.

"Really? Because you seem awfully cocky for someone who doesn't think he's special."

When he didn't answer, the kid continued. "What makes you think you can take a rose from my girlfriend, Winchester?"

Dean nearly laughed at that. "Hey, I didn't take a rose from anyone, dude! They all just gave them to me. And I don't even know who your girlfriend is."

"Rachel Winslow," the kid said.

"Rachel? Oh wait….. is she that blond with the big….um, eyes?"

Dean knew the minute the words left his mouth that he shouldn't have said them, so in a way he was prepared for the punch that landed on his mouth. The jarring of the punch pushing him even harder into the locker caused the bigger kid to lose his grip and seconds later, Dean found himself on the floor. Knowing he was at a disadvantage in more ways than one, Dean immediately jumped up and squared himself, bringing his fists up to protect his face.

The three boys started laughing at that giving Dean just the slightest window of opportunity. Without hesitation, he jabbed his fist forward, landing a punch squarely on Robby's nose. Blood immediately gushed out and Robby fell to the floor, letting out a cry that sounded like a little girl. The two other boys stared at their friend, leaving Dean with another opportunity to attack. Without hesitation, he kicked his leg out, sweeping the legs of the big guy out from under him. The kid teetered for several long seconds and then fell over, joining Robby on the floor.

Dean turned his attention to the last remaining guy, but he was too late. Just as he stepped forward, the kid punched him in the stomach hard. Dean felt a rush of nausea shoot through him as he tried to stand up straight again. Just as he stood up, another punch was thrown. But this time, Dean was able to move away from it and it only landed on his shoulder. Without thinking, Dean reacted to the thrown punch by throwing one of his own. The kid was able to move out of the way at the last second, but he couldn't dodge the kick that Dean sent towards him. Dean immediately followed the kick with another punch, landing it solidly on the guy's chin. Without a sound, the guy fell to the floor.

By this time, they were surrounded by other students, who were all staring in awe at him. He had no desire to continue fighting, but before he could walk away, he heard the dreaded sound of a teacher.

"What is going on here?!" the man said. Dean looked up to see that it was his Algebra teacher, Mr. Brooks. Dean actually liked the man. "Winchester? Did you do this?" Mr. Brooks asked incredulously.

Dean didn't answer. Mr. Brooks stared at him a little bit longer before turning back to the three kids on the floor. "Mr. Harlow, are you okay? Do you need the nurse?" When the boy only moaned in response, Mr. Brooks knelt down at his side. "You're okay, Robby. Although, it looks like you may have a broken nose. Let's get you to the nurse."

Dean watched as Mr. Brooks helped Robby up off the floor. Seconds later, he had also helped the other two off the floor. Turning back to the crowd of students, he quickly sent them on their way. Dean still stood there, not knowing exactly what he should be doing. He knew he was in trouble, even if it was self-defense.

Finally, Mr. Brooks turned back to him. "Follow me, Mr. Winchester."

Dean followed the man, who was still supporting Robby with one arm, down the hall. He started to feel a little panicky when he realized that the principal was more than likely going to call his dad. And that his dad was not going to be happy that he had been in a fight. In fact, his dad was going to be downright pissed.

Suddenly, Dean was cursing the fact that it was February 14th. It seemed that nothing good ever happened on Valentine's Day.


	2. Will You Be My Valentine?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How does Dean get himself into these situations?

A Very Supernatural Valentine's Day

Chapter 2

If there was any day of the year that Sam hated almost as much as November 2nd, it was February 14th. Sam's experiences with Valentine's Day were usually sad and pathetic. More often than not, he was the new kid in school, so no one really knew him. He would still get the obligatory Valentine's card from his classmates, but they were usually the card in the pack that no one really liked. And he rarely had his own cards to give out or had goodies to bring for the class party, since his dad didn't think stuff like that was important.

Of course, there were a few times that he did have those things to bring, thanks to Dean. Sam would always remember the Valentine's Day of his third grade year. They had been in the current town for almost a month, so Sam had made several friends for a change. He even had a girlfriend and he was trying really hard to keep that secret from his brother. Unfortunately, Dean had a knack for discovering whatever secret Sam was trying to keep from him.

And that's how it all started.

The small apartment they were staying in was within walking distance of the school, so Sam always waited for Dean- whose school got out later- to show up at his classroom to walk him home. The day before Valentine's Day, Sam was in a bad mood as he waited for Dean to show up. They were having a big party the next day and Sam had signed up to bring cookies, even though he knew there was no way he'd be able to.

On the walk home, Dean noticed that Sam was even more quiet than normal. Dean tried to get the kid to talk about whatever was bothering him, but nothing seemed to work. Even when he called his little brother Samantha, Shortstack, Princess, and Munchkin- names that usually had Sam seeing red- Sam ignored him. Finally, Dean grabbed Sam and picked him up, throwing him over his shoulder.

"Dude! What's wrong with you?! You're pouting like a two-year-old!"

"Put me down, Dean! And leave me alone!"

"No way, Sammy! Not until you tell me what's got your panties in a twist!"

"I don't wear panties!" Sam yelled, which only led to Dean laughing.

"C'mon, Sammy! Tell Big Bro what's wrong…."

When Sam still didn't talk, Dean grabbed him and swung him down and back on his feet. Kneeling down in front of Sam, he looked him in the eye. "Does this have anything to do with tomorrow? Valentine's Day?"

Sam turned away, but Dean just moved back in front of him. "I bet this has something to do with that girl, right? The one that's always talking to you when I get there to pick you up?"

Sam's eyes widened and Dean knew he was on to something.

"I knew it! Sammy's got a girlfriend! Way to go, kid!" Dean laughed at the way Sam's face immediately blushed. "Okay, so you're upset because you didn't get her a V-Day present? Is that it?"

Sam sighed loudly before finally coming clean. "It's not just that, Dean. We're having a party tomorrow and I'm supposed to bring something. And everyone's going to be handing out cards. It'll be embarrassing when I show up without anything."

Dean was quiet for a beat, obviously trying to figure out a way to help his brother. Sam just watched as Dean was thinking. Eventually, he saw a smile light up Dean's face.

"Don't worry, little brother. Just leave everything to me, okay? I'll take care of it."

"What are you going to do, Dean?" Sam asked.

"That's for me to know and for you to find out, Samantha."

"Hey, don't call me Samantha! Dad said you had to stop."

Dean rolled his eyes, remembering the scathing lecture he'd received from his dad a month ago. He knew that his dad really didn't care if he called Sam's names. What he cared about was the whining and complaining that came from Sam whenever he did.

Dean was quiet the rest of the walk home, working out his plan as they walked. Sam really wanted to know what Dean was up to, but he knew his brother would never tell him. Especially if he was going to do something that was going to get him in trouble.

When they got home, they were surprised to see the Impala in the driveway. John was supposed to have left for a hunt while they were in school, so they both wondered what had changed. Just as Dean was about to open the door, the door opened to reveal their dad.

"Hey, boys…" John said. "How was school?"

Both boys responded with a hurried "it was fine" and John was just about to ask for a more specific answer when Dean spoke up first.

"I thought you were leaving today, Dad."

"I'm leaving now," John answered. "Caleb had something to do this morning, so we're getting a late start." Looking specifically at Dean, John continued. "I left some money on the table, Dean. It should be enough to last the week, but spend it wisely. Understand?"

"Yes, sir."

"I want you boys home immediately after school this week. No extracurricular stuff. Home and school, that's it."

"But, Dad, I have Science Club on Thursday, remember?" Sam said.

"You're gonna have to miss it this week, Sam. I want you both to come straight home after school."

"That's not fair!" Sam whined.

Dean nudged his little brother, trying to get him to stop whining before John gave him something to whine about.

"I'm not having this discussion with you, Sam. No Science Club this week." John looked firmly at Dean.

"Dad, I can stay with him after school on Thursday. We'll just be getting home an hour later than normal, so it's no big deal."

"I said no. I mean it, Dean. You have your orders."

"Yes, sir."

"And when you're home, I want you inside. Doors locked, windows and doors salted. Got it?"

"Yes, sir," both boys answered.

"Okay, I'll call you when I get to Indiana. Dean, make sure you get your homework done. And make sure Sam takes his baths and gets to bed on time. Watch out for your brother, Dean."

"I will," Dean said, trying to hide his annoyance. Why did his dad think he had to always remind him to watch out for Sam? He'd been watching out for his little brother for as long as he could remember.

They watched as John got into the Impala and drove off without looking back. Once he was gone, Dean ushered Sam into the apartment. "Get started on your homework, Sam, okay? I'll fix you a snack."

Sam settled in at the table, spreading his homework out in front of him, while Dean grabbed an apple and started slicing it. Once he was done, he set the plate on the table, grabbed the jar of peanut butter and a spoon, and poured them both a glass of milk. He sat down at the table, too, and started slathering peanut butter on one of the apple slices.

"Aren't you going to do your homework, Dean?"

"I don't have any," Dean said, but Sam knew he was probably lying. "Listen, Sam…. I want you to finish your homework and then you can watch some TV, okay? I gotta go do something."

"You're leaving? But, you heard Dad. He said we have to stay inside."

"I know what he said, Sammy. But, I won't be gone long."

Sam started to protest again, but he knew it wouldn't do any good. Once Dean made up his mind about something, there wasn't much that could change it. He watched as Dean pocketed some of the money that was on the table.

"I'll be back before Baywatch comes on."

Sam laughed, knowing that Dean wouldn't ever willingly miss watching Baywatch. Ever since he'd turned twelve, he had been fixated on girls. "Okay. Be careful, Dean."

"I will," Dean said as he made his way over to the door. "Lock the door behind me, Sam. And don't open the door unless you hear the secret knock. And don't answer the phone either. Okay?"

"Okay."

As soon as the door closed behind Dean, Sam locked it and went back to doing his homework.

Dean was gone a little longer that he wanted to be, but he still made it home by seven o'clock. Sam was sitting on the couch, watching a rerun of The Brady Bunch. He changed the channel as soon as he heard the key in the lock, not wanting his brother to know he had been watching it.

"I told you I'd be back in time," Dean said as he put the two bags he was carrying down on the table. "Are you hungry? I brought back some dinner."

"I'm starving," Sam said as he jumped up and ran to the table. "What did you bring?"

"I got you that breakfast burrito you like, Sam. And I got me some tacos!"

Sam settled in and started eating. "What else did you get?' he asked with a mouth full of burrito.

"Dude, I don't like seafood," Dean groaned.

Sam just looked at him in confusion. "I'm not eating seafood," he said.

"Exactly! So keep your mouth shut so I don't see your food."

Sam groaned at Dean's pathetic joke, but he kept his mouth closed. Dean grabbed the second bag he had brought in and handed it to his brother. "Here. Check it out yourself."

Sam opened the bag and peeked in, his eyes lighting up when he saw what was inside. He quickly pulled out the small tray of heart-shaped cookies and the small box of Tom and Jerry Valentines cards. "Tom and Jerry?" he asked.

"Yeah, sorry about that. I know you probably wanted Batman cards, but those were, um… they were on sale, Sammy."

"They're great, Dean. Really! But you didn't spend all our money, did you? Dad said we had to make that last."

"Don't worry about it, Sam. I got it covered. And there's something else in the bag for you."

Sam looked in the bag again, his brow furrowed in confusion. Pulling out a large chocolate heart, he looked at his brother. "What's this for?"

"It's for your girl, Sammy. I figured you'd want to get her something special."

"Dean, we can't afford this."

Dean hated the thought of his little brother worrying about money like he did. The kid was only eight years old and shouldn't have to worry about stuff like that. But, he also knew that the likelihood of Sam dropping the current topic of conversation was pretty slim.

"I didn't spend the money Dad left us, okay? I spent my own money, so don't worry about it."

"Your own money? Where did you get money from?"

Dean rolled his eyes and put his taco down on the table. "It's not really my money, I guess. Dad gave it to me yesterday to pay for the field trip we're going on next week."

"Dean! Why did you spend it then?"

"It's just a stupid field trip, Sam. It doesn't really matter."

"But, Dean…. I know you wanted to go on that trip. And if Dad finds out you spent that money on stupid stuff, he'll be really mad."

"It's not stupid stuff, Sam. It's stuff you needed, so I got it for you. And Dad won't find out if you don't tell him, so keep your mouth shut, okay?"

"I won't say anything," Sam said after a long silence. And then, "Thank you, Dean."

"You're welcome, Samantha. Now eat up so you can start working on those cards."

Sam picked up his burrito and started eating again. Every once in a while, he looked up at Dean who was eating his taco with a small smile on his face. Sam didn't know it, but his happiness was more important to Dean than any stupid field trip. Even if it was a trip to the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame.

Sam smiled as he remembered that day. The class party had been a success and no one made fun of the Tom and Jerry cards he handed out. The cookies were a little stale, but no one seemed to mind. And Hannah liked the chocolate heart he gave her and even gave him one in return. He remembered sharing it with Dean that night.

Unfortunately, a week later, John found out about Dean using the money to buy everything for Sam and was not happy at all. Sam remembered being sent to his room where he heard the dressing down his dad gave to his brother. There was a lot of yelling, followed by the sound of John's hand smacking Dean's backside, and soon enough Sam could hear his brother crying. Sam hated it when his brother cried.

Sam and Dean never really talked about any of that, but Sam knew that his brother didn't regret doing what he did.

Now, as he was waiting for the bell to ring to end the day, he sat at his desk, going through all the Valentine's cards he'd gotten. Once again, Dean made sure that he had some of his own to hand out, but this time he got them without doing anything that would get him in trouble. Sam couldn't wait to show his brother all of his cards and goodies, and he hoped that Dean was having a good Valentine's Day, too. If anyone deserved it, Dean did.

__________________________________________________________________________

John was halfway through his third beer when the phone rang. He had half a mind not to answer it, but they didn't have an answering machine, so he didn't want to miss it. Just in case it was important.

After answering it and listening to what the person on the other end was saying, John wished that he had just ignored it to begin with. Hell, he wished that he was off on some hunt, facing some murderous monster, instead of being where he was.

Putting the phone back on the cradle, he drained his beer and grabbed his coat. The last thing he felt like doing on such a wretched day was dealing with the misbehavior of one his sons who knew better than to do what he did. John couldn't believe that Dean could be so stupid. Most experts would chalk it up to hormones and typical teenage angst, but John didn't subscribe to any of that nonsense. With their lifestyle, they couldn't afford to fall prey to such nonsense, and Dean knew that. He knew he was supposed to keep his head down and his nose clean, but somehow the boy always ended up in trouble. It was like trouble just followed him around.

And John knew that any trouble Dean got into could usually be traced back to one of two things….either Sammy or girls. Of course, his cocky attitude didn't usually help matters any, either.

Ten minutes after getting the phone call that alerted him to Dean's situation, John pulled up to the school. He looked at his watch and realized that Sam's school would be letting out in twenty minutes. He hoped that they could wrap this issue up within that time frame.

Stepping into the front office, he immediately noticed Dean and two other boys sitting on a bench outside of the principal's office. John immediately took in the busted lip and pale face of his son. One look at the other two boys and John knew that they had gotten the worst end of the deal.

It took several seconds for Dean to notice that his dad was there, but John could tell the second he did. Dean's face paled even more as he sat himself up straighter on the bench. "Dad!"

John ignored his son as he stepped up to the counter. The lady sitting behind the counter looked at him expectantly. "Hi. I'm John Winchester. Dean's dad."

The lady looked disapprovingly over at Dean before turning back to John. "Yes, Mr. Winchester. Mr. Emerson is expecting you. This way, please. Dean? You can come, too."

John watched as Dean got up slowly. He wanted to grab the boy and knock some sense into him, but he controlled himself. It wouldn't do any good to lose control. Instead, he waited for Dean to catch up before turning and following the woman through the door.

Once inside, the woman made the appropriate introductions before turning and leaving the room, shutting the door behind her. John and Dean sat down in the chairs in front of the desk and John couldn't help but notice how nervous his son was looking.

"Mr. Emerson, before we get into what happened here, could you call the grade school and ask them to have my youngest son wait in the office for me? Just in case we're not done here before his school is out."

Mr. Emerson picked up the phone to make the call and John turned to study his son. Dean was doing everything in his power to ignore his dad's penetrating stare. John turned his attention back to the principal when he heard the man hang up the phone.

"Mr. Winchester, I'm sorry to have to call you in today. I'm sure you're a busy man, but it seems we have a bit of a problem. Dean was involved in an altercation with three other students this afternoon, and as you know, we do not condone physical violence at all in this school."

John was speechless. Was the man saying that Dean was fighting three other students? Or maybe Dean had a friend that was fighting alongside him?

Mr. Emerson looked over at Dean, who was staring at the top of his desk. "I'm not really sure what started the fight or who threw the first punch, but I do know that one of the other students is in the nurse's office right now with a significantly broken nose. Fortunately, the fight was broken up by one of our teachers before anyone else could get hurt."

"So, Dean was fighting three other students by himself?"

"It appears that way, yes."

John looked over at Dean and cleared his throat. Dean immediately looked up at his father.

"Dean, what do you have to say about this?"

"I'm sorry, sir," Dean answered. "I didn't start it, I swear." He wanted to add that he was the one that ended it, though, but he kept his mouth shut.

"What happened?" John asked.

"Um…. Robby was mad about something that he thought I did, so him and his two goons ganged up on me. It was self-defense, Dad, I swear." Dean searched his dad's face, hoping to find signs of the man believing him.

"What was it he thought you did, Dean?" Mr. Emerson asked.

Dean groaned, not wanting to have to explain about Robby's jealousy.

"Dean! Mr. Emerson asked you a question," John growled when Dean didn't answer right away.

"I don't know!" Dean said. "He was mad because his girlfriend gave me a, uh…. she gave me a V-day gift. I guess he thought I was flirting with her or something."

Now, it was John's turn to groan. "And were you? Flirting with her?"

"No, sir," Dean answered immediately.

"Then why did she give you a present?" John asked. He was well aware of how Dean was with women. The boy had more charm in his little finger than most men had in their whole body and he had seen women ten years older than Dean fall victim to his green eyes and devilish grin. He was pretty sure that his son wasn't completely innocent in this whole situation.

"I don't know, Dad. I mean, I've talked to her a few times, but never more than just a few words. And I didn't even know that her and Robby were a thing."

"Mr. Winchester, if I may," Mr. Emerson interrupted. "As you know, today is Valentine's Day. For the last twenty years, the booster club has done a Valentine's fundraiser to raise money for the baseball and softball teams. They sell chocolate roses to the students for them to give to the one they want to be their Valentine. It's become a bit of a competition over the years, to see who gets the most. And at the end of the day, we have an assembly to announce how much money was raised and which student got the most Valentines. It seems that your son was quite popular with the ladies this year. He received a total of fifty-three chocolate roses, which happens to be the new record."

"Fifty-three?" John asked incredulously. "Seriously?"

"Yes, sir," Dean answered with a blush.

"Fifty-three…" John repeated, still not quite able to wrap his mind around that total.

Mr. Emerson gave the two Winchesters a smile, before turning serious again. "I'm guessing Robby might have been a little jealous, since he was the current record holder. I think he received thirteen last year."

John couldn't control the laugh that escaped him. He couldn't believe the absurdity of the situation. And if he were being honest, he felt a little proud of the fact that his son had broken that record so astoundingly. Fifty-three!

Mr. Emerson continued on. "So, who threw the first punch?" he asked Dean.

"Robby did. One of his goons pushed me up against the locker and held me there. Robby punched me in the mouth, so I punched him back. And then I did what I had to do to keep from becoming a punching bag for the other two. Like I said, it was self-defense."

Mr. Emerson looked over to John. "There were a few witnesses that corroborate Dean's story, although none of them saw the beginning of the fight. Of course, Robby said that Dean started it. And I haven't talked to the other two yet."

"So what happens now?" John asked.

"Like I said, we have a zero tolerance policy on physical violence in this school and since we don't know for sure who started the fight, I have no choice but to suspend Dean."

"That's not fair!" Dean said instantly, leaping forward in his seat.

"Dean, I'm sorry. I'm inclined to believe your story, but since Robby is saying something different and we have no real witnesses, I have no choice but to punish you all equally."

Dean settled back, slumping down in the chair, resigned to the fact that he was going to get punished even though he was just protecting himself.

"How long will he be suspended for?" John asked. He could feel a headache forming and was suddenly eager to finish up and get back to his beer.

"The rest of the week. And then he'll have to serve after school detention for a week. I'll make sure Dean's teachers gather up his homework for the week and you can pick it up tomorrow, Mr. Winchester."

After talking through the formalities of the suspension and detention, Mr. Emerson finally stood up and shook John's hand. "Thanks for coming in, Mr. Winchester. I hope not to see you again in this situation. And Dean? I'll see you next week. Oh, and congratulations on winning the contest today. Don't eat all that chocolate in one sitting."

Dean followed his dad out of the office and out to the Impala. John hadn't said a single word since leaving the office and Dean was starting to get nervous. The man was quiet the whole way over to Sam's school, too. Once they were there, John ordered Dean to stay put while he went in to fetch Sam. A few minutes later, they both walked back out. Dean could tell that Sam was jabbering away, probably telling their dad everything that happened that day in school. Dean could also tell by the way John kept rubbing his head that he had a headache. That didn't bode well for him, at all. The combination of it being Valentine's Day, Dean getting into a fight, Sammy jabbering incessantly, and John's obvious discomfort couldn't possibly end well for Dean.

Once Sam was in the back seat, John pulled out of the school parking lot and headed home. Sam was now telling Dean everything about his day, going into detail about every aspect of it. Dean was happy that his brother finally had a good Valentine's Day and he tried to show that he was interested in what Sam was saying.

Luckily, the drive home was short. Once John parked the car, they all climbed out and headed into the apartment. Sam ran off to the bathroom and John headed into the kitchen. Dean had no idea what to do with himself. He was sure that his dad was going to punish him, so he didn't want to make the man mad by leaving. Not knowing what else to do, Dean sat down on the couch. He didn't turn on the television, so when Sam returned, he was immediately suspicious.

"What's wrong?' he asked when he saw his brother just sitting there.

"Nothing. Don't worry about it, Sam."

"Did something happen at school?"

"I said don't worry about it, Sammy. Don't you have some homework to do or something?"

Sam frowned at his brother. Usually when Dean said not to worry about something, that meant that there was something to worry about. "C'mon, Dean. Something happened or else Dad wouldn't have picked us up. And he was late, too. I had to wait in the office with Mrs. Turner."

Dean smiled at Sam's words and the indignation on his face. He hadn't ever met Mrs. Turner, but he had heard all about her penchant for ruffling hair and pinching cheeks from Sam. He imagined spending almost thirty minutes with her was a nightmare. "I thought your cheeks looked a little red, Sammy."

"It's not funny, Dean. Now, what happened? Did you get in trouble again?"

Dean knew Sam wouldn't stop asking until he knew, so he finally answered him. "Yeah, but it wasn't my fault."

Sam rolled his eyes. "What did you do?"

"Why does everyone always assume I did something?" Dean growled.

"Because you usually do."

"Well, I didn't this time. I can't help it if all the girls love me, can I? I don't have any control over what they do, do I? It's not my fault."

After a little more cajoling from Sam, Dean finally spilled the whole story. By the end of it, Sam didn't know whether to laugh or cry. He wanted to laugh at the fact that his brother always found himself in the weirdest situations and he wanted to cry because he didn't want to see his brother get punished. Sam looked over at the kitchen, trying to figure out what their dad was doing. He and Dean were both aware of how much the man hated this particular holiday. They were used to him being surlier than usual in the weeks leading up to Valentine's Day and both boys tried to be on their best behavior. It didn't take much to send John over the edge during this time of the year.

"Is Dad really mad at you?"

"I don't know," Dean admitted. "He hasn't said a word to me since we left the high school."

Dean and Sam both sat on the couch, taking turns looking worriedly over to the kitchen. They could hear John moving around occasionally, but they still hadn't heard a word from him. Eventually, Sam turned on the television and found a movie that he hoped would take Dean's mind off of his current trouble. They were almost halfway through the movie when John finally left the kitchen.

"Boys, I'm going out for a while. I ordered a pizza and it should be here in ten minutes. Don't wait up for me."

John had just grabbed his coat and opened the door when Dean stopped him. "Dad? What do you want me to do?"

John looked at him in confusion. "What do you mean? You know what to do when I leave, Dean. Lock the door and lay down the salt lines. And watch out for Sammy."

"No, I mean do you want me in my room? Or should I be translating some Latin? Cleaning the guns?" When John still didn't seem to know what Dean was talking about, he just blurted it out. "What's my punishment, Dad?"

"Punishment?"

Now is was Dean's turn to look at John strangely. "Yes, sir. For getting into a fight."

"I thought you said it was self-defense…."

"It was, sir."

"Well, do you think you deserve to be punished for defending yourself, Dean? Because if you do, I can turn you over my knee and light your backside up before I leave."

"No, sir. I just thought…."

"Dean, all the training I put you through is so that you can defend yourself and your brother when you need to. According to your account of today's events, that's what you were doing. I'm not going to punish you for doing exactly what I've been training you to do."

"Yes, sir."

"Okay, make sure Sam eats his dinner before he starts in on his candy. And don't let him eat too much chocolate. He'll have nightmares."

"Yes, sir."

"And Dean? Make sure those fifty-three chocolate roses don't get eaten all at once, you hear me?"

"Yes, sir."

As John closed the door, Dean could see him shaking his head. He heard the man chuckling to himself and thought he heard the man say something that sounded suspiciously like his mother's name.

John turned to leave, anxious to find the nearest bar and drown his Valentine's sorrow in a bottle of his favorite whiskey. He tried not to think of his wife, knowing that going down that road of memories would be too painful for him. As he drove towards the bar, he let his mind roam over the events of the day. And suddenly he found himself laughing and crying at the same time.

"Mary, I wish you were here to see our boys," he said out loud, his eyes filling with tears. "Sammy is so smart and stubborn and so full of life. He reminds me so much of you when I first met you. And Dean…. He's something else, Mary. He's the best big brother to Sam. And he takes care of this family. He's smart, too, just not in the same way as Sam. But, Mary, he's going to be the death of me for sure. He's barely fifteen and every girl in a two mile radius is attracted to him. The other day I caught him flirting with the librarian when we were researching a hunt. She had to be at least seventy-five, Mary. And she was eating it up. And today he got into a fight because some kid was jealous that he got fifty-three chocolate roses from the girls in the school. Fifty-three, Mary! He broke the record with that one."

John wiped the tears from his face as he pulled into the parking lot of the local dive bar. He hadn't had nearly enough alcohol yet, and he was determined to fix that. Numbing his pain with alcohol was the only thing that got him through every February 14th. Getting out of the car, he stepped up to the front and stopped, his hand lingering on the hood of the car. Flashes of memories shot through him, each one bringing a bit of both sadness and joy to him. Standing where he was, he could almost smell the scent of Mary's shampoo and perfume blowing on the gentle wind. When he closed his eyes, he could imagine Mary as she was on one of the last Valentine's Day he spent with her- cuddled up on the hood of the car, wrapped up in blankets, staring up at the stars in the sky and then back down at the baby she was holding in her arms. He could hear her voice as she talked to baby Dean, cooing at him and occasionally singing to him. He could feel the satiny soft feel of her skin as she reached over and touched his face. And he could feel the ghost of her lips as she kissed him under the starlight.

All of these things proved to be too much for John Winchester, so he stepped inside the bar and started on his journey of drinking to forget the pain and guilt that threatened to overwhelm him. He knew he should be home, taking care of his boys, being a father to the two most important things in the world to him. But, he couldn't. He wasn't strong enough. He wasn't brave enough. Without Mary, he just wasn't enough of anything.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading. More to come soon.


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